Perfect
by Abbey Snape
Summary: Second song fic based on a Billy Redfield song. Die for You is the first, if you haven't read it. This is told basically in Hermione's point of view, but in third person. Rated K plus just because. Couldn't really figure what the second genre should be.


_You've got me tongue tied  
You've got me way up high tonight  
It's alright_

Hermione gazed at the snarling Potions Master relentlessly, a warmth filling her for reasons she couldn't quite figure. She thought, after seeing him for the millionth time since she began to like him, that maybe her mind would realise it was being quite silly. But it didn't. She didn't really want it to, either.

She walked up to him, thinking she had something witty to say. The thought left her when his eyes locked onto hers, and she fell into them. Figuring she should say something anyway, however trite it may be, she blubbered, "Lovely evening, isn't it, Sev?"

His eyes bore into hers still, and slowly, he replied, "I suppose."

Hermione frowned—she had known the man for ten-odd years now, as she started teaching Arithmancy at Hogwarts a year after she graduated, but she could never really figure what he was thinking.

_Don't take a minute for granted  
Your whispering face  
You called me down the last time_

Not wanting to let any more silence pass between them, she asked, "Are you glad the party is almost over?"

The professors at Hogwarts held a Christmas party every year, and it was not passable to be absent.

"Yes," he replied. There was a pause, then, measuredly, he added, "You look nice tonight."

Heat rose to her face, and she looked down. "You look nice as well."

"I look the same as I always do," he said, reasonably. He was still wearing all black, but the fabric was different than the normal cotton cloth.

Hermione bit her lip. "Not entirely. Your robes look..." she paused, trying to think of a good word, "shinier?" The pause hadn't helped.

"Shinier," he considered, then said, "Well, it is silk."

Gently, the woman placed a hand on his arm, feeling the fabric. "That it is..."

He blinked at her, a question in his eyes.

_I remember the special chase  
'Cause every last breath I take  
Reminds me of the day  
When the sky opened up and said  
You're perfect  
You're perfect  
You're a miracle every day_

The look caused Hermione to think back to a few months earlier. During meals, she and Severus always sat next to each other in companionable silence, but one particular morning, he had not been so silent.

It was October, and the bewitched ceiling showed the cold, grey sky above them.

They had been getting along quite nicely recently, even so much that they teased each other mercilessly—their awkward, unsure way of showing affection.

Severus stared up at the ceiling, watching as a bit of light swirled around in it. The sky must have sparked something inside the man because as he gazed at it, he whispered, "You're perfect."

Hermione hadn't known if he was talking to her, or maybe to the sky, or maybe even to someone he'd just been thinking about. But when he looked down at her with questioning eyes, she knew.

Both being introverts when it came to feelings, they never talked about it again. It was almost as if it hadn't happened, but from then on, there had been something different between them. Unspoken, but it was there.

_Stars are blinding everybody tonight  
Your eyes have an angel's sight  
Your hair smells of strawberries  
Your touch is inordinary_

Hermione snapped back into the present, gazing up at the sky like Severus had done not so many months ago. The stars shimmered irrepressibly, and she inhaled sharply in awe. "Beautiful..."

"Yes," Severus replied, but he wasn't looking at the stars. His word caught her attention, and she looked at him. As a light wind blew, she almost thought he smelled faintly of strawberries. That being a silly notion, she giggled a little. He raised an eyebrow.

"I thought I smelled strawberries," she said simply.

His face flushed—which really just made it look rather normal, instead of the usual pale white—and Hermione giggled again. Severus looked at her intensely, as if he could see her deepest thoughts and feelings through her hazel eyes.

He lifted a hand to her cheek, rubbing it gently with his thumb.

_'Cause every last breath I take  
Reminds me of the day  
When the sky opened up and said  
You're perfect  
You're perfect_

"You're perfect," he said, echoing that October morning. Leaning down, he caught her lips in a shy yet powerful kiss, causing them both to shudder slightly.

And suddenly, rather than there being something different between them, there was something quite the same.


End file.
